


Wrestlemania

by Challis2070



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: But no idea really, F/M, Gen, Roman Reigns Wife, Who I assume would take his last name in universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:48:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23922616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Challis2070/pseuds/Challis2070
Summary: Roman ReignsCan't be at Wrestlemania (thanks to Covid) Instead of the nothing that they do for this, Roman looks through his contract and goes "Yup, we'll just make Braun Strowman be my champion. Done!" which makes way more sense.
Kudos: 1





	Wrestlemania

Sighing, he looked again at the supply of food he had on hand.

"Well, this quarantine is going _brilliant_ , I'll need to order more food again." Huffing, he set about to making himself lunch. 

"Can't help but feel like there is _something_ that I'm forgetting, though? And talking to myself is certainly not solving that issue."

" _Why_ are you talking to yourself? Did you forget that I was here with you??" Galina said as she stepped through the doorway into the kitchen where Roman was wandering around trying to make himself lunch.

"Oh! Galina! Yes, I forgot you were here. Did you get the groceries?" He _didn't_ need to order more food. The food had just arrived. Time has turned into slime again and it's no good.

"Roman...honey...stop being forgetful, it's not a good look. Yes, I put them away already and showered." She raised one eyebrow at him bemusedly.

He blinked. Her hair _did_ look rather damp. And he was pretty sure he had heard someone putting stuff in the pantry from the other side of it.

"Sorry! I just have the terrible feeling that I'm forgetting something and all the days have turned into slime and it's not good at all." He did not like the idea of time having turned into slime. It did that before, when he was in the hospital. It really needed to stop doing that.

"Hm. Well, at least we can watch your coworkers on tonight on one of the weekly shows?" He generally liked watching them, or at least pretended to like watching them.

"Yes. Oh. _Shit_. That's it." Now he knew exactly what it was that had been wiggling at the back of his mind, it was Wrestlemania. He had to wrestle in it. He absolutely could not wrestle in it. 

"Wha...You are absolutely _not_ competeting in Wrestlemania this year. Not _now_!" If he was capable of dying from a glare, he would have died (again) from the look his wife was currently giving him.

"I know! But I have to figure out how...hmmmm, I have an idea. The contract is in the lockbox, right?" Well, it had better be. And the security system that ensured that it _stayed_ there had also better be working. No trust these days, no trust _at all_.

"Of course. Call up our contract lawyer if you need to."

"Already planning on it." They had the poor man on speed dial after the first few...'incidents'.

\-----

Several hours later, after he had made many conference calls, some more successful than the last, did he finally manage to get everything wrapped up enough that he could go to bed.

"How'd it go?" She asked from her reclined position reading in bed.

"Well, no one is particularly happy, but we have a recorded segment ready and my part is _done_." He sighed as he flopped into the bed and slid under the covers next to her.

"Oh good!"

"Yea. In other news, if Strowman calls, don't answer it. He needs to go be angry at someone else." Anyone else. It wasn't his fault exactly that Strowman was currently the only person who qualified under their contracts for this.

"...o...okay." Oh good, another contract dispute. Well, we'll add that to the "Remind Roman to not put that off" list again.

\-----

"I...what? That's...I mean...I get to be in Wrestlemania, but...what?" He was pacing the locker room, trying to figure out exactly what was going on. At least he had some time to think about it, really. Not _much_ time, but time nonetheless.

"Look, it's really simple. Roman is medically not cleared to wrestle, and he's chosen you to fight in his place." He would wonder why he was tasked with explaining bad shit to people, but apparently everyone just...trusted him to not be a complete dick. He wasn't, but it just felt weird. Help, Undertaker! Everyone trusts you to sort shit out! But _why_. Well, he knew why, basically, but it didn't make it any less _weird_.

"I _get_ the first part, makes total sense, we don't want to risk him, he doesn't want to risk him, no one wants to risk him right now. But how did the second part happen here?" And how many people did he have to blame for this happening, exactly?

"...if I said 'contract law', would you just agree with me?" Contract law was an esoteric ritual that even he did not want to mess with. The last time he had tried, it had ended extremely poorly.

"...I...I need to make some calls. I'll agree to this for now, but I'm making some calls." Such as 'why was I chosen? And how can I prevent that from happening again??' Well. Not the fighting part, but the 'lack of choice' part. 

"You know what, that's fair. It's not going to do much for you, but that's fair." Well, it might. Depending on who Strowman called, he supposed. There were worse things than contract law out there, and Strowman might actually know some of them.


End file.
